Brogdin

Death put her right paw infront of her left, then her left infront of her right, and repeated it again, slowly, watching her enviroment closely. She was in Brogdin, still, not knowing what had happened with the Castle, the talking animals, just roaming around in the streets of Brogdin. She was silent and alert, her ears perked, trying to hear what was happening lately, what she had missed, and what she could do for the Queen and Goldilocks. Though, she wasn'r sure about the Queen at all.

Death thought back to what she had said, Pet, and wasn't happy about it. Death wasn't a pet, she was an animal thinking on her own, doing stuff on her own, the things she wanted. She didn'y need anyone ordering her, especially not a stupid, wicked Queen. And, if the Queen thought she could order Death like that, than maybe Death had to choose the other side, standing up against the Queen. She could lead the Talking Animals and any other that stood up against the Queen, to the Castle, and into it, Death knew the way.

She sighed and looked around, anger now burning in her, but she didn't show it. Though, if the Queen would call her a Pet again, she might show it. Even if it would be her death. She didn't care at all about that, right now, she rather died then staying the stupid mutt she was. She should have listened to her father. Her father should have killed her when she was young, a defenceless pup. Then, her father wouldn't have been dead, her family wouldn't have been dead. Then, they would still be alive, happy and together, instead of dead. But, it was too late for that, they had already died and Death couldn't go back in time. She just had to realise that they were dead and that she was at the mercy of Goldilocks and the Queen, or whoever. Maybe she was just a pet, a stupid, mindless animal that should have never existed. That was what she was.

Tears appeared in Death's eyes as she thought back to that time. She missed her family and rather took there place, instead of living, she shouldn't live. She should be dead, and her family alive. She laid down in an ally and rested her head on her paws, then closed her eyes. She sighed softly, not wanting to move, ever again. She would starve herself out, die and be with her family, where she belonged, unless someone would convince her.

Aurora canted her dark head in acknowlegement of his question, her golden gaze settling on the servant with another, almost speculative look. How many of her cards should she lay bare? What had she to hide, really? None of the court had known she was anything other than who she had claimed to be- who she rightfully should have been. There would only be the shame in him knowing what she had become since then. But even she, had not fallen so far as his beloved prince.

"Not from Evergreen, no.." she murmured. "But a guest within its lower court.." She lifted her gaze to touch his again before glancing away. "Beyer may have known of me, if he did..as the black widow." It had been her way to get noticed, being the moth who fluttered amidst the butterflies. Always dressed in black, classic, stunning lines, and always masked in her grief. The widow princess of some territory far enough away for the name to be irrelevant. "We never met.." that had been the hardest to bear. She had been so close. She still carried the invitation to the high court ball that would have marked their introduction. But the witch had met him first.

"But who I am is not our current concern..Saving him, is." Now that she knew he could be saved. "There are a few places where the pretension to goodness and honor remains. The talking animals.." Her brow furrowed slightly. "Other occupants of the Fairy Woods. The fae may be amongst our best bets for finding such a maid." A nail tapped against a patch of exposed thigh. "There is trouble afoot in the woods, however, a coming darkness.." She had seen it, murky, as she was following her mark from the pub to their now less than secret hideaway. "We will have to work quickly to find one who will serve. I may have a way into the company of those who spend time there."

The woman rose again and drifted toward a curtained window that looked out from the gloom onto the streets, her brow furrowed. Was that a wolf laying in the streets? No natural beast would be so comfortable. Her watching stare turned thoughtful again.

...

Heinrich

Heinrich frowned in disbelief at Aurora when she identified herself to be the Black Widow. He couldn’t say that the prince knew of her positively. He recollected the master, mentioning the Black Widow and disliking her choice color because she would dare show up to his party as though it were a funeral. She had gotten his attention all right, but he wasn’t going to let her know that. The woman was a whore, and she thought highly of herself—two good reasons.

“The Fairy Woods are slowly being devoured by Dark Wood. The queen’s army raids the fairy kingdoms, making it impossible for them to keep the woods fertile and pure…”

Heinrich then rolled his eyes at his own behavior and sighed. “I feel like such a fool. Before I came here, I was so determined to save the prince, and now that possibilities and hope are being thrown my way, I find them too good to be true.”

As Aurora stood, Heinrich did also, assuming their meeting had come to an end. “Tell me where I should look and what I should do, and I’ll do it. If we must do this quickly, then just point the way.”

Aurora drew the curtains back over the window; a dog, on second look, and one likely near its end. The woman turned back toward the servant who waited just beyond, crossing with her floating stride past him and toward the heavier curtain that would allow him back out into the subdued activity of the bar and common lounge.

"Then we must act to find what purity remains, before the bitch makes desolate all our hopes..mhmm?" The whore's voice was as even and melodic as it was coldly determined. There was little she set her mind to that could not be accomplished. "We must find a way to enter the company, or make acquaintence of the woods folk. I have had cause of late to..interact with a few who have taken up an interest in putting a kink in her majesty's works." Her lips twitched. "I have my doubts that they can be successful at anything except killing each other..but their knowlege might come in useful. I will make it a point to frequent their gathering places. It should be easy enough to convince them that I am one heart with their cause.."

If he accepted her invitation to move she would be slipping out behind him. "As you you, dear Heinrich..I'm afraid your lot may be rather more tedious. Beauty, rarely stays hidden. It is coveted, lusted, spoken of. Even beauty of the soul. If there is such a one untainted as exists in our land, it will be spoken of in hushed whispers of want, and almost as a myth of old- but it will be spoken of." She fell into her lazy, sensual walk at his side. "Your job, will be to find that story, dearest..and follow where'ere it leads. I would not be surprised, if it was to the woods. But they are by and far to vast to search without some sense of where to look." She glanced his way, a dark humor flashing in her amber gaze. "And then, there is that little problem of avoiding a warzone, if it can be helped."

They had reached the foyer again. "Stay..if you will, enjoy the Tumbler's finer services, by all means.." Just not her own. "It is here that I shall leave you word and updates on my progress.." A finger summoned Nell over to her side. "Get, Heinrich here an account box, Nell. He may use it to leave communication for me when he desires.."

And that, was her own signal to them both that she considered their business complete. The servant would only have the sun kissed expanse of her back to view, as she ascended the stairwell again, as regally as she had come, having paused only long enough to hear his parting words, if he'd had any to give at all.

It was rarely that a good story or five couldn't be heard flying through the air of the tavern; though it was a general rule of thumb that the chosen topics of conversation were carefully filtered. One could never know what might lead to trouble, after all. However, when enough ale flowed between four working men, that rule was most certainly forgotten.

"I 'eard it, I say!" For all the man's desperate attempts to convince his fellows of his story's likelihood, his conviction only raised another bellow of laughter from the table. Red faced, he threw back another swallow of ale before slamming mug and all back upon the tabletop. "Tha' singin'." His voice dropped low to a near conspiratorial tone, and the pointed tip of his tongue poked out from between his fat lips to lick away the froth that had gathered there. "Singin' in th' woods. Ye can't 'ave forgotten, all those years ago when tha' unfortunate prince went n' lost 'is 'eart to th' sun maiden's voi-"

"Rubbish!" One of his companion's sputtered. "Yer drunk. Yer drunk n' yer full o' rubbish if ye think fer one bloody second I'll believe that shyte."

Undeterred, the man shook his head and continued with renewed conviction. "Th' sun maiden. I 'eard 'er singin'! N' I followed tha' voice into th' woods!"

"Did ye find anythin'? One o' th' wee folk while ye were at it? Did they give ye spun gold?

"No.." He answered, missing the joke entirely. "But what I 'eard were worth more n' spun gold."

He broke clumsily through the underbrush, his axe and his livelihood forgotten in the wake of the sad, sweet melody that reached his ears and coaxed his soul to come, until he had been unable to resist its call. The notes flowed down on the wind, and he traced them as though they were visible, tangible things through the air, nearly unseeing the paths of worn stone that towered above him. Unfocused, his eyes touched on the window a giant's height above him, and he swore he saw the beauty that belong to the voice. He had only a heartbeat to see her; in a flutter of gold and grey the figure was gone, and he was sure part of his soul had been stolen away with it. It took him a while- he did not know how long- before his senses had returned to him, and he recognized the twisted form of the stone-made tower, bound by wicked thorns that clung as though squeezing the life from the construct. Yet it was not until he saw the corpse staring at him through hollowed eye sockets from its place tangled within the blackened barbs that he ran.

He sniffed and sucked on his ale until the last of it had been nursed dry. "They say she were a like a patch o' light shone down from the sun itself." He spoke as though he believed it. "That she could sing sweeter than any bird."

"They also say she don't exist, ye oaf." Or if she did, she was either long lost, or long dead like the prince that had followed after her.

Ivory/Snow White
The Plantation

Ivory had been watching the battle for a while and still hadn't decided on who to fight for when something came flying out of the fray to land at her feet.

It was a head but not like any she had ever seen before. This one appeared to be made out of gingerbread and was talking to her.

"Which side am I on?" she repeated flatly, picking up the head and placing it in her lap, "I hadn't decided, shall I leave it to a toss of the coin?"

She sat silently for a moment, pondering the situation, brushing crumbs off the face of the gingerbread head and gazing into its molten eyes.

"Actually, I don't think I'm going to need that coin," whispered Ivory with a slight smile, "I have to say, you're very peculiar and I find that fascinating. Never have I seen eyes like yours, they're quite stunning. Just let me know how I can help, I'll be more than happy to cause a little mayhem."

She didn't know if the gingerbread head fought for good or for evil, she didn't even care which side of the battle it was fighting on. All she knew was that she found it interesting and helping the head out would certainly provide a rush.

"You may call me Ivory," she said, her smile darkening, "Better known as Snow White, now who needs to be dealt a little death?"

Heinrich

Heinrich followed Aurora outside the reserved enclosure. He listened to her advice and couldn't help but once again feel the doubt that had been racking his body like a disease. She wanted him to sit around bars and listen for hope. With the prince finally being within his reach, it aggravated him to think he would have to hold off on his quest for weeks, months, years; and for what? They weren't even sure such a maiden exists.

Stay...if you will enjoy the Tumbler's finer services, by all means...It is here that I shall leave you word and updates on my progress...

Heinrich watched as the mistress retired to the upper floor.

"Thank you..." he paused. His thoughts had become dark and he pressed himself to stay positive. With a determined frown, Heinrich added, "I'll be sure to let you know if I find anything."

With a tired sigh, Heinrich walked over to the lounge where ruffians, scumbags, and swine immersed themselves in tankards of ale. Heinrich was in no mood to drink or even eat. He desired only to sit, relax, and meditate on everything the mistress had told him.

Before the bitch makes desolate all our hopes...

The Wicked Queen's evil had traveled so far as to touch Evergreen and ruin his life. This suffering had been her doing. Heinrich could have easily watched the ministers put another prince on the throne, but how could he call himself a loyal servant to the prince if he abandoned him in his time of need? The prince was still alive.

Slumping into his chair, Heinrich stared aimlessly across the room and soon realized how tired he was. His journey had been long and stress was making him weak. Where would he lay his head tonight? He didn’t trust the establishments in Brogdin any farther than he could throw them.

I 'eard it, I say!

If he laid his head on a pillow anywhere, he swore he'd wake up without one.

Tha'singin'.

He would stay up all night, have a mug of strong coffee, and be on his way.

Singin' in th' woods. Ye can't'ave forgotten, all those years ago when tha' unfortunate prince went n'lost 'is 'eart to th' sun mainden's voi-

Rubbish!...

Heinrich's brows slowly lifted in interest and he turned an ear to the drunken man's story.

Sun maiden? Singing? Twisted stone tower in the woods? The servant felt his soul trembling inside him. A woman that sang sweeter than a bird couldn't be evil.

Find the story and follow where it leads...Heinrich sat up in his seat and his first intention was to leave a note in his account box to let Aurora know of his discovery, but then...Well, he knew that she was interested in the prince. Even if they had managed to change Prince Beyer back, a prince with a whore? He wouldn't permit it. He didn't have much of a say on who the prince took as his wife, but he would certainly try to talk him out of it, if he fell for Aurora's tricks. She was an enchantress, and he knew the prince had some lewd hobbies that would make him a pawn in her games.

No; he would investigate the mysterious maiden in Fairy Woods on his own. If the story was false, then there was no need to have told her in the first place. Heinrich stood from his chair and marched out of The Tumbler. He raised his hood back over his blonde head and strode into the night with purpose in his step. The Fairy Woods wasn’t entirely safe, but it was safer than Brogdin if he sought rest. The fairies were kind and would warn him of any danger.